Bound
by ChiiYuu
Summary: A mission makes a turn for the worst as an assassination attempt was executed. Captured by his target,injured,fevered, and options running low Altair must find a way out of this predicament. Rated M as a precaution.
1. Bound

A/N

This is my first fan-fiction ever! So I beg of you to not be too harsh on me, even if you are the queen/king of writing/grammar ... well, what ever. Be nice please. This is a story inspired by the many Assassin's Creed Fanfic's I've read, in which you may find similarities. I wrote this fanfic on a whim so it might have mistakes, but thank you very much Agryu for your beta reading this for me!

For some reason I decided to put this in 1st person view. This takes place before Altair becomes Master Assassin, so he is still in his teen years.

* * *

A pained cry was the first thing I heard. My eyes snapped open in alertness from this sound, but I saw nothing but darkness. The cry began to fade and then increase in octave with each brief pause. Slowly, I sat myself up from my prone position on the cold stone floor. A familiar scent of feces and blood assaulted my nostrils, causing me to gag. Trying to assess the situation that had befallen me, I instinctively checked my equipment.

Surprisingly, I was unable to bring my hands no further than the width of my waist. It only took a moment to see that thick cuffs and heavy chains bound me. I forced my arms up and around, turning them in all directions and finding it quite difficult to break free. "Newly crafted it seems…" I mused aloud. Curiously I followed the chain towards a nearby wall, brushing my thick, callused fingers over the bolt in which the chain resided. "…This as well."

The wailing ceased, leaving an odd silence. I stood still, muscles tensing, my senses flaring with caution. Suddenly, a loud click was heard followed by a jingle of what seemed like keys. The large wooden door slowly creaked open, assaulting my eyes with a sudden change in hue. I lifted my hands to shield my eyes as they slowly adjusted to the light. Two heavily built men then roughly grabbed me.

Their attire was black, laced with golden stripes along the rims of their robes. I'd recognize these uniforms anywhere—no doubt my target Haytham Seif had captured me. Summoning a low growl, I glared at my assailants with annoyance. "Where am I being taken?" I asked one of them. I was granted with a quick jab in the jaw and a brief response, "Silence, Assassin!"

My body was still too groggy after the failed attempt to assassinate my target and I dared not pester them any further, or risk tempting them to injury me further. Two more guards joined them as I exited the dark cell.

"Walk!" one of them ordered, thrusting me forward with a rough push between my shoulders. I stumbled, almost falling forward. With suppressed anger, I glared at the guard, gritting my teeth to restrain my urge to disembowel the fool.

The hallway was dimly lit by torches, illuminating the murky walls with dark, flickering shadows. I proceeded to walk, though with a limp, a remnant of my failed assassination attempt. Haytham was clever it seemed, having been fully prepared for my arrival in his fortress. As I recall this event, His fortress walls were lined with archers poised for duty. This had not deterred me, but now I wondered if perhaps it should have.

I tried a different approach, instead of walking in through the front gates, with a group of monks. I decided to make it a little more interesting by infiltrating from the fortress walls. How convenient that a wooden ladder stood sprawled, against the stone clad wall. I took one last look around me, to make sure that I was not seen, I began to climb.

Silently I waited until, the patrolling guard walked past where I hid. I then softly landed on the stone floor. Before me stood an archer, oblivious to my presence, such as a viper comes upon its prey, I struck this poor soul. My short blade embedded deep in his thoracic region, his cries of pain and agony muffled by my hand. Slowly he began to sink to his knees as all signs of life left his eyes. Lifting the corpse up over my head I threw him down below, where I spotted a patch of hay, to keep his body hidden.

"…hm? A-Assas-Ugh!" Surprised, I turned around prepared to see the guard, in a fighting stance, but he lay limp, on the floor, blood slowly pooling around his body. "Reckless as always…" said a familiar voice. Dressed in Assassin attire, and equipped to the brim with weapons, knowing him who favors the sword. "Malik…"I said in a monotone voice. With a quick flick of his sword, he gracefully sheathed it. "Who else could it be but me? This is OUR mission; Al Mualim set us both on this crucial mission."

Malik gently grasped my shoulder, "You are not alone brother, we must do this together if we are to succeed." "Do not patronize me! I am not that weak little orphan boy you once knew…"I said forcefully pushing his hand aside. "Speaking of reckless, are you going to just leave that body there?" I pointed at the dead guard. "Now, this is why we make such a good team, brother. Now help me toss this poor soul over the wall."

Finally we made it to the center of Haytham's Fortress; it being more of a city in itself than a fortress. Malik and I made our separate ways. While he took the upper ground, I will take the lower ground. Perched atop one of the watch towers, in the center of this city like fortress, I scanned over the horizon, noting on the storm clouds, which stood in the distance.

The thought of water made my throat cringe for the joy of hydration, causing my tongue to run over chapped lips in anticipation. I gulped deeply, vision shifting across the stronghold's walls and scanning the crowd for my target. There. The yellow glow stood out from all the blurring grey and blistering red of guards, clearly marking his position atop a short wooden pedestal, where he stood as if showcasing himself.

I found this quite odd, but nonetheless, I prepared for my leap of faith. Leaping off the wooden platform, my arms open wide, safely landing in a cart full of hay with a slight puff. I began circling my way through the crowd towards Haytham. The high-pitched sound of an eagle was heard from above and I glanced up. My eyes rested upon my partner Malik, perched atop a nearby building. Our eyes met, and my fellow Assassin gave a nod, assuring me that the archers were taken care of. I turned my attention back to my target, my eyes fixed on his throat.

I quickened my pace, shoving my way through the crowd and preparing my crossbow. The first shot took down one guard, the arrow piercing itself through his thick skull with an unsettling crunch. The other thrust his sword down from above and I sidestepped to my left, stabbing the soldier with my short blade, neatly in between his ribs.  
"This is too easy…" I thought to myself as the last fell. My target did not flinch nor move from his pedestal, simply standing there with a sly grin pulling at the edge of his rugged jaw.

I was perplexed and quite envious of this man's bravery. In this moment of bewilderment, I regrettably hesitated. My dagger was only inches away from this man's throat, and yet I was not quick enough to swipe it across his neck. I quickly found out that, despite his small stature, he was fairly agile and strong. He knocked the wind out of me with a sharp jab to my abdomen, followed by a blow to my back, causing me to fall to my knees.

He took this chance and straddled me, holding me down. I could feel his weight on my lumbar, but as quickly as he took up the upper hand, Malik came to throw him off. "Come, hurry! Before the guards reorganize!" my partner said, eyes frantic with adrenalin and fear. In response to the panic Malik's eyes spoke, my body mimicked the alarm, struggling to lift myself off the wooden stage. The crowd of spectators began to disperse and scatter in panic. "Assassin!" a guard yelled, pointing in our direction.

We sprinted from the stage, running through the crowd. We were forced to come to a sudden stop as the tangle of people began to bunch together and thicken. "There is no way out!" a bystander yelled. These few words broke the thin line of self-control these people had, and all hell broke loose. Haytham's fortress gates were shut, trapping all chaos within.

Malik swore under his breath. "…Come, this way, brother," he called, pointed in the distance. "There, we can climb over that." I caught sight of the indicated scaffolding, leaning over an unfinished wall of the fortress. We flew together over building after building towards the incomplete wall, but we were not alone. The guards were still hot on our tail, only a few yards away. They seemed to increase in number as we began to draw closer and closer to our exit.

The archers posted on the fortress walls saw us coming and opened fire. The arrows whizzed past my ears, causing me to quicken my steps. Despite the threat, faster and faster we ran, such as an elk running from a pack of wolves.

"Aaaugh!" I heard myself scream. My left shoulder throbbed in pain from the impact of an arrow. "…the lucky bastard," I cursed under my breath, before losing my balance on the uneven ground. I fell face first onto the hot, dust-covered rooftop, only an arm's length away from the scaffolding.

Before I knew it, I had been surrounded on all sides by guards. I stood up, my stance wide, careful of my injured limb and punctured shoulder. "How unfortunate, we couldn't hit two birds with one stone," Haytham said with glee, walking towards me from the entanglement of soldiers. "But you alone will do just fine." His sneer etched into my memory, and the next moment, darkness consumed me as I felt something blunt impact my skull.

* * *

A/N

How exciting!... Well, I hope you readers have enjoyed this little snip-it of my imagination. Let me repeat this again, this is my **"First fan-fiction ever!"** so be nice. Depending on the reviews I may or may not continue this.


	2. Safe

It is now, that you see me, tattered, beaten and bound by thick cuffs and chains; matters worsening by the second as my eyes scatter about these insidious hallways, hoping to have a glimpse of my escape route. But this was to no avail, and the path to freedom did not bother to expose itself to me.

We then abruptly stopped next to a large wooden door. The door slammed open, and through it emerged Haytham, his thick hands tainted with reminisce of blood, and debris. He stood there, calmly wiping the filth off with a dirty, worn cloth.

From behind him, two of his men drag out a limp form. No longer living, I assume, for he did not move. "Throw him into the sea," Haytham commanded his men.

The two men nodded in response. My heart quickened as I saw myself in the man's place, being dragged by those guards to be discarded like unwanted trash. I shook my head to banish the image from my mind.

"We have brought you the prisoner, just as you instructed," uttered the large brute to my right, speaking up as the other two men disappeared around the corner.

Haytham's dark brown eyes, slightly lidded, glanced from me to the brute. "Strap him up…" he ordered, gesturing towards the dark room. Fear began to breach the surface of my self-control, for I knew what was to come next. The two large guards behind me grasped my shoulders; my left shoulder began to throb in pain from the pressure of the brute's pincer-like grip.

The room was dark and cold and it had an unsettling odor wafting about the entire chamber. My eyes wandered to a slightly inclined, wooden table set in the middle of the room. Beside it sat several buckets, and across the room stood a well, also surrounded by several buckets.

A guard un-cuffed my wrists and I seized this moment to grab the sword from his belt. Quickly, I cut down the surprised brute, and he fell with a loud thud, alerting the other three guards, and Haytham.

"Capture him!" Haytham called to his men. At once, the three large brutes charged at me. The slightly stouter one was the first to have the honor to be impaled by my sword. His blood pooled through his mouth, and as I retracted the weapon, I countered the one behind me with a quick thrust to the abdomen, stopping him in his tracks. The last was the one who had jabbed me in the jaw, and it was my utmost pleasure to do away with him. With several swings of my blade, he too fell.

My eyes returned to the open doorway, and to my surprise Haytham was not there. I was about to make a run for it, but a sudden weight hit me, and I was forcibly pinned to the floor, my sword clattering out of reach with an echo. Wet decay and fungus pressed against my face as Haytham drew closer to my ear. "Feisty, aren't you? Now be a good boy and stay still."

He then hoisted me up, and single-handedly dragged me to an odd contraption, strapping my arms and legs down with iron bars. "Now I must interrogate you alone… Hrm, how troublesome."

"I will tell you nothing…!" I snarled at the man.

In response, he only smiled. "I have not yet asked the question."

He then covered my head with a cloth, rendering me blind to his actions. "Now, I'm sure you're thirsty, Assassin. Here, have some water."

A clatter and sloshing of water sounded as he grabbed a bucket, and gradually poured the cold liquid over my face. The cloth quickly absorbed the water and soon it began to cling to my face, and as I breathed… I wasn't able to breathe. My attempts to draw breath grew quickened, panicked, and I began to gag and cough against the water. He's going to kill me! I thought, and instinctively struggled to release my restraint, thrashing as terror took its full reign. Then suddenly, the cloth was torn away from over my mouth and nose.

Relieved, I heaved for air. Through my coughing and gasps, I retaliated angrily, promising him that when I got out, I would make sure he suffered slowly, just as I had!

"Oh, I shall eagerly await that day, Assassin," he laughed, resting a hand against my injured shoulder, and causing me to cringe in agony.

"Hmmm… still hurts, does it?" I did not respond. He clenched his hand, and I screamed, a jolt of pain reverberating through me.

"Tell me the location of your Brotherhood!" he demanded. With teeth clenched, I turned away from him. Struck with fear as I was, my loyalty did not falter, and my only response to his demand was silence.

He released my injured limb. "Fine, then we shall continue…"

Once again, he covered my head, and continued to pour water over my face. My limbs began to ache and cramp, causing more discomfort beside the lack of air and chilling cold. This procedure continued on, stretching until I could no longer keep consciousness, and I blacked out once more.

I awoke with my bounds loosened and the wet mask off. I sat up on the wooden board I had been lying against, taking in my surroundings. There was a small sliver of light coming from the doorway, and I followed it. With caution, I gently pushed open the chamber door.

Somewhat unable to believe that the door was actually unlocked, I opened it wider, revealing the empty hallway. Quickly and quietly, I ran through the hallway, searching for a flight of stairs. Stopping to catch my breath, I leaned against the murky wall, resting my hands upon my knees.

In the distance, I picked up the sound of footsteps. Peering from around the corner, I spotted one of Haytham's men walking towards me, but he was preoccupied, and failed to sense my presence as he passed by. Noticing the ring of keys at his waist, I presumed it would be best to steal them.

As he continued to walk absentmindedly down the corridor, he did not notice that I had already snatched his keys.

Finally, I came upon a flight of stairs, and I reached out to turn the knob, but before I could grasp the handle, it had already turned.

The door opened, revealing a surprised guard, "What are you do-!"

I rushed past him, knocking him down as I ran full pelt through the courtyard, ignoring the constant throb of my ankle as I hopped from rooftop to rooftop. I had reached the outer walls of Haytham's fortress when the alarm finally sounded, announcing my escape. From the peak of the battlements, I took the leap into the same patch of hay in which I had thrown the bodies the other day.

Adrenaline now pumping through me, I ran across the rooftops, avoiding the crowd, and the guards below, before jumping down into the cover of a narrow, winding alley.

Landing quite awkwardly, I tumbled and collapsed face first onto the dust-covered ground. Letting out a moan, I picked myself up and patted off the dust, pulling my hood back over my head to cover my sweat-slickened brow. I leaned against the wall as the hot beating sun peered over a single cloud in the sky.

I heard the sound of footsteps above me stopping abruptly, followed by voices. I strained to listen closely. "Curses! We lost him!" said one man.

"We lost him? You lost him!" retorted another, in a much more irritated tone.

"What will we tell Haytham?" wondered a third voice fearfully. Following me to the bureau, so that was their plan. I waited, hidden in the shadows until they left, spreading out in their attempt to re-locate and follow me.

I brought my hand up to my injured shoulder, and examined my wound. "…I will not be able to blend easily this way," I said aloud. Nonetheless, I wound my way into the crowd, trying my best to not call any unwanted attention. The streets were quite desolate, though it was to be expected now at mid-day, when the sun was hottest.

I saw a group of monks not too far ahead, and as I greeted them, they recognized and welcomed me. "Ah! If it isn't the savoir of our brother… we are happy to help you when we can," one elderly monk said.

"It was nothing, I am always glad to aid those in need," I responded with just about the same vigor.

We proceeded to walk as our conversation continued. "…You do not seem well today," the elderly man said with worry.

"I am fine," I said in response, my voice masking any sign of weakness.

"Would you like to come to our church? I can bandage that wound of yours there, it will not take long," he offered, but I declined, saying simply, "Thank you but I am near my destination."

I bid him farewell, and through another alleyway I went. My fatigue was starting to catch up to me as I neared the bureau.

I slowly walked into a small courtyard, where two women and a child were conversing on a bench. The child slept idly on his mother's lap, while the other gestured about a great event that has happened to her that day. They paid me no mind as I climbed the wooden ladder to the roof of their home.

Trudging, and dragging my feet, I grudgingly teeter my way towards the entrance of the bureau. A meter away from the entrance, I could already hear Malik's roaring voice as he argued with the Rafiq. I only caught parts of it, as I carefully descended into the bureau.

"…dead by now," stated the Rafiq.

"He is too stubborn to die so recklessly!" I could imagine Malik's brows furrowing in annoyance. "If you will not help me rescue him, I will go myself!" Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room, his features wrought with a mix of anger and worry… and perhaps frustration. My lips curled into a small smile at the thought.

I heard my name uttered, as I stood there like a brooding statue in the middle of the sunlit courtyard, surveying the shadows of the caged roof across Malik's features as I looked at him. "You have not slept Malik… You have dark circles under your eyes," I stated weakly.

"Sleep? How could I sleep?" he asked, briskly walking up to me. "How could I, when I didn't even know if you were dead or alive?" His eyes gravitated almost immediately towards my arrow wound, he pausing mid-breath.

"How perceptive of you, Malik." I grasped his shoulders to keep upright.

With his eyes wide he spoke my name again, with that same worried tone. "It is but a flesh wound, I am fine," I assured him.

"Fine? You are not fine!" He clasped my arms to support me, staring into my face. "You can barely hold your own weight."

"What's this? It seems that the flying one is no longer flying," said the lighthearted voice of the Acre Rafiq. "You are lucky to have made it here alive; usually those who are captured are killed within a day or two."

The Rafiq came closer, his good eye scanning me. His mischievous smile disappeared, replaced with sternness "Sit, rest. Remember, for you are in a sanctuary, a haven for us Assassins. You do not have to put up face here." I stare at him blankly, and like a snap of a twig, I slowly surrendered to my body's will, blacking out once more.

At least this time I am somewhere safe.

* * *

A/N

First of all I would like to thank agryu for beta reading this for me once again, absolutely love your touch of elegance! For those of you who patiently waited practically half a year for this update. My apologies, I wanted my story to be perfect, or more likely not contain any smut. There shall certainly be more, the genre is adventure for a reason, expect that to come soon after this chapter.

About the portion of Altair's torture session here is some info. It's called "_Water Boarding_" and if I remember correctly it's a favored torturing technique during the Spanish Inquisition since it leaves no marks on the body as well as the fact that it puts your body in a high stress situation. Cold water poured over the face and into the breathing passages triggers a sensation of drowning and unlike submerging the head face first in to water, water baording triggers an immediate gag reflex, as stated on wiki.

I hope you guys have learned something new, and have enjoyed my little story here and thank you for reading this far.


End file.
